


Garden of Eatin'

by Jessi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bottom Castiel, Cas helping Charlie and Gilda make a baby, Cas is a little bit endverse, Construction Worker!Dean, Domestic Fluff, Hippie!Cas, Human!Castiel - Freeform, I forgot to mention there's totally a wedding too, Past Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Religious Fanaticism, Schmoop, and was very Zen and centered, but like if Endverse Cas got most of the way sober, but not in a sexy way, but only a brief mention, but only for like a second, everything I know about tantric sex I learned from a five minute google search, foot worship, meditated a lot, there really is a soy yogurt shortage and it's very sad, vegan chef!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessi/pseuds/Jessi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Jess are trying to have a baby, and decide they want to eat healthier. Which is how Dean finds himself eating buffalo tofu at a vegan restaurant run by the sexiest hippie he's ever seen. The food is delicious, which is just the first surprise among many.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Inside the room was dim and small. There was a glass front counter to the left of the entrance, the display full of pastries that honestly didn’t look half bad. He spotted an apple pie (technically a blend of four organic heirloom apples, lightly sweetened with raw muscovado sugar, baked in a stone milled whole wheat crust lightly spiced with fresh ground ginger and cinnamon) and his stomach let out an involuntary growl.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“That’s just what a chef loves to hear.” came a gravelly voice from very close over Dean’s shoulder.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Dean spun around, and quickly stepped back when he found himself face to face with a disheveled brunette man in a faded green linen shirt, a wide grin on his face, bright ocean blue eyes, and giving off a faint aroma of pot and nag champa.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Garden of Eatin'

**Author's Note:**

> These fics are written for fans and brokenhearted queers with _needs_ so no you may not teach them in your class. I didn't go to college and neither will my fics. We're keepin' it real.
> 
> Special thanks to DevilMadeMeDoIt who read snippets of this and acted as an extra set of eyes and a super fantastic cheerleader as it got written. And for tolerating me despite this being all I would talk about in our emails for the last 4 days.

Dean stopped his Impala near the address Sam had texted him, parallel parking on the busy street and sliding into the spot with practiced ease. It was in a part of town he didn’t visit often, record stores cuddled up next to used book stores, head shops bumping elbows with antique stores and second hand clothing shops that charged a ridiculous markup. As he walked down the street he passed a sign advertising palm reading and rolled his eyes. _Gullible bastards, believing in all that supernatural hoodoo_ , he thought to himself. 

When he reached his destination his eyes widened in unpleasant surprise, _Garden of Eatin’_ was printed in flowing white letters on a grey canvas awning. Cream lace curtains hung in the windows. Bamboo wind chimes banged together beneath the awning. On the door more white letters informed him that the restaurant served vegan cuisine and green smoothies.

Dean shuddered. _What the fuck?!!_ he fumed in his head. He cautiously shoved open the door and was greeted by the tinkling of a bell overhead.

Inside the room was dim and small. There was a glass front counter to the left of the entrance, the display full of pastries that honestly didn’t look half bad. He spotted an apple pie (technically _a blend of four organic heirloom apples, lightly sweetened with raw muscovado sugar, baked in a stone milled whole wheat crust lightly spiced with fresh ground ginger and cinnamon_ ) and his stomach let out an involuntary growl. 

“That’s just what a chef loves to hear.” came a gravelly voice from very close over Dean’s shoulder.

Dean spun around, and quickly stepped back when he found himself face to face with a disheveled brunette man in a faded green linen shirt, a wide grin on his face, bright ocean blue eyes, and giving off a faint aroma of pot and nag champa. 

“Whoa,” Dean huffed, laughing nervously, “you really shouldn’t sneak up on a guy like that.”

The blue eyed man tilted his head, considering, “Perhaps you’re right. My apologies. Was there something I could help you with?”

Dean was pretty sure from the way the man was checking him out, a leering drawn out sweep of his eyes from the toes of Dean’s work boots to the top of his spiked honey hair, giving an extra bit of attention when he reached the expanse of Dean’s broad shoulders, that the last bit of the statement was meant as innuendo. 

Dean, out of his element and completely thrown, an uncommon occurrence for a man with the amount of notches he’d put in his bedpost, blushed like a tomato and mumbled, “Uh, yeah, actually, I’m just meeting my brother and his wife.”

Dean pulled his eyes away from blue and finished looking around the small space. The walls were a pale seafoam green, white fairy lights were strung around the entire room where walls met ceiling. On the left was a walled off area Dean assumed was the kitchen, in the center a few scattered tables, all mismatched, with mismatched chairs circling them, and on the right a line of rustic wooden booths. He spotted the top of Sam’s head peeking over the booth nearest the back.

“Uh,” Dean stammered, “I see them over there, so I’ll just, uh, yeah.” Dean walked away, flushing further as he bumped into the corner of the first booth. He could feel the man’s eyes watching him go, and without giving it much thought put a little more swing in his hips. 

“I’ll send Alfie right over to get your drinks” the man called after him, and Dean swore he could hear a smirk in his voice.

Dean hurried over to the booth and slouched down on the bench facing his brother and Jessica.

“What are we doing here?” Dean hissed at them

Sam and Jess both laughed at Dean’s glare, “Well, you know how we’re trying to have a baby?”

Dean nodded.

“Jess decided-”

“We.” Jess interrupted.

“Yeah, so, _we_ decided that we wanted to eat healthier, and we’ve gone vegan.”

Dean’s jaw dropped.

Jess reached across the table and propped Dean’s mouth shut again with her pointer finger.

“You, you can’t be _serious_.” Dean sputtered.

“One hundred percent.” Sam confirmed.

“So what about Thanksgiving?” Dean asked, because Jess was an absolute goddess with a turkey.

“I’ve been looking up recipes for a seitan roast.” Jess smiled.

“Satan...what?”

“Seitan, it’s a meat substitute made from wheat gluten, and it’s really, really good.” Sam explained.

Dean frowned, he very much doubted that, “So you aren’t going to eat my world famous burgers anymore?”

“Nope.” Sam said, though Dean was pretty sure he saw a spark of sadness in his brother’s eyes. He did make some damn fantastic burgers. 

Their conversation was interrupted by a young man coming to the table. “Hi, I’m Samandriel, and I’ll be your server this afternoon. Can I get you something to drink while you look over your menus?”

Dean flipped to the beverages, “What the hell is kombucha?”

“Fermented tea, it’s fantastic for digestion.”

Dean wrinkled his nose in disgust, “No thanks, can I just get a Coke?”

“We have an agave sweetened cola? Would that be alright?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”

Sam and Jess ordered their drinks, hot herbal tea with agave syrup, and the waiter walked off. 

“But really, you guys can’t be serious.” Dean said again.

“Are you ever going to stop asking that?” Sam bitchfaced.

“No, because you’re crazy. Mom and dad ate normal and we turned out fine.”

“Mom has high blood pressure, and dad has had two heart attacks and he isn't even 60.” Sam argued.

“Yeah, well, I’m fine.” 

“Whatever. So, hows work?”

Dean couldn’t help but smile at his brother changing the subject, enjoying what felt like a small victory.

“It’s going good, we’re just working on finishing up that new strip mall near the highway. Should have it done before the first frost at this rate.”

“That’s great. Any work lined up for the winter?”

“Nah, but I have some money saved up, and if I need to I’m sure Ellen will let me pick up a few shifts at the Roadhouse.”

The blue eyed man appeared at the table. Dean again hadn’t noticed him approach and gave a small jump. The man appeared to be trying to suppress a laugh.

“Who had the soda?”

Dean signaled to himself and the man set down a glass bottle alongside a glass of ice.

“Alright, here you go, and Alfie will be right back out with the hot tea.”

“Alfie?” Dean couldn’t help but ask, “I thought he said his name was Samand-uh-Samander-uh-Sam something?”

The blue eyed man laughed, “Samandriel. Alfie is a nickname.”

“How the hell do you get Alfie from Samandriel?”

Just then the younger man walked back up, as he set down the tea settings for Sam and Jess he explained, “I was a regular, came in every day-”

The older man interrupted, “and every day he’d order the same thing, Tofurky on whole wheat with avocado, and alfalfa sprouts.”

“So he started calling me alfalfa, which became Alfie. After a month of coming in here every day he said to me,” and Alfie changed his voice to a low rough register in imitation of the other man, “‘kid, you’re here all the damn time, might as well get paid.’ and so I started working here. It’s been two and a half years now, and I love it. Cas is the best.”

Dean turned to the blue eyed man, “Cas?”

“Short for Castiel.”

Dean shook his head, “Let me guess, you both have hippies for parents?”

Cas laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes, “Alfie does, for sure. My parents, well, I’ll save that for another time. Enjoy your meal.” and then he was gone.

Alfie looked slightly uncomfortable, but tried to cover it with a weak smile, “Ready to order?”

“Sure,” Jess began, “I’ll have the massaged kale salad with maple glazed walnuts and dried cranberries.”

“Dressing?”

“Maple dijon.”

Alfie turned to Sam, “For you?”

“The garbanzo oat burger with fruit for the side.”

Alfie turned to Dean who was still studying the menu.

“Uh, I guess I’ll have,” he scanned for the most normal looking options, “the buffalo tofu wings with cashew bleu cheese, and a bowl of the six bean chili.”

“Did you want Daiya on your chili?”

“Come again?”

Alfie snickered, “It’s a cheese substitute, made from arrowroot and pea protein.”

“Yeah, no. Just the chili.”

“Ok, I’ll have that out in just a little bit.” Alfie headed off to the kitchen.

Sam and Jess talked about their plans for the baby, Sam’s work at the law office, and Jess’ work as a nurse practitioner at the county clinic, and Dean talked about his construction job, and his plans to go see the Kansas City Chiefs with Benny in a few weeks. Before long the food arrived.

Sam and Jess dug right in, but Dean eyed his food suspiciously. He stuck his finger in the dressing and was pleased by the creamy tang. He decided to go ahead and try the wings. 

“Oh, my god. This is delicious. Tofu is amazing!” Dean groaned in pleasure.

Sam made an ‘I told you so’ face.

Dean crammed another wing slathered in dressing in his mouth and chewed as obnoxiously as he could in retaliation.

Just then Cas returned to the table. “Enjoying yourself, I see.” he asked Dean with a twinkle in his eye.

Dean tried not to choke on the huge bite in his mouth as he hurried to swallow. “Hell yeah, these are awesome.”

Cas grinned, “Thank you. Can I get you anything else? Alfie is on his break.”

Dean thought for a moment, “Another cola, and can you make sure to save a piece of that apple pie for me?”

Cas cast a glance around at the otherwise empty restaurant, “Somehow I doubt that will be a problem.”

“I’m sayin’, just in case.”

“I’ll be sure to save a piece of pie for you.”

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem...” the man trailed off as though waiting for something.

“Oh! Dean, my name’s Dean. This here is my brother Sammy-”

“Sam.” his brother interjected.

“Sam, and his wife Jessica.”

Cas smiled at the couple, “It’s nice to meet all of you,” then he turned his eyes back to Dean, “I hope to see you in here again.”

“You’ll see Sam and I for sure, though Dean is more of a meat and potatoes kinda guy.” Jess grinned.

“Hey, just because I was skeptical before doesn’t mean I can’t change my mind. Good food is good food.”

“Thank you,” Cas said again, but looked troubled, “You know, animal farming is inherently cruel. I have some pamphlets in the back-”

Dean cut him off, “Hey, hey! One step at a time. Today I tried tofu. Maybe next time you can foist your propaganda on me.” he joked.

Cas looked offended, “Dean, it’s not propaganda! The animals aren’t ours to-”

Dean again interrupted, “Joking, Cas. It’s a joke.

Cas looked sheepish. “Oh, um. sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Cas still looked uneasy, “Well, anyway, I should get back to the kitchen. I’ll make sure Alfie knows about the pie.”

Dean smiled at Cas, but Cas was already turning around and walking away. Dean’s face fell.

Sam smirked across the table, “Looks like somebody has a crush.”

Jess joined in, “Dean likes Ca-as, Dean likes Ca-as.” she sing-songed.

“I hate you both.”

Alfie came out with the soda just as Dean finished the wings and moved on to the chili.

“Cas told me about the pie, just holler when you’re ready for it.”

“Can do. Hey, I uh, I didn’t upset him, did I?”

“No, Cas is, well, he’s complicated. It’s not really my place to explain, but long story short, sometimes he struggles in social situations. Still, his heart is always in the right place.”

Dean smiled at the young waiter, he liked hearing him speak so fondly of his boss.

“Cool, thanks.”

Alfie smiled and walked away. 

The rest of the meal continued uninterrupted. By the time Dean finished the bowl of chili he was stuffed, but he refused to skip pie, just on principle.

He waved over Alfie who was slouched on a stool behind the counter reading Mother Jones. 

“Pie time?” Alfie asked.

“Hell yeah.”

“Did you want that heated with homemade french vanilla coconut milk ice cream on top?”

“Sure, why not.”

The pie was, no exaggeration, transcendental. Dean felt bad just thinking it, but it was even more delicious than the old Campbell family recipe his mother had been making since before he was born.

“Hey Alfie,” Dean called out, and Alfie looked up from his magazine.

“Can I get you something?” he asked as he walked over.

“Just the check, but I was wondering, how often do you guys have this pie?”

“Every day until the end of apple season.”

“Awesome.” Dean replied with a wide smile.

Alfie returned shortly with the check. Sam and Dean fought over who should pay, until Jess snatched the check and insisted, “Stow it, I’ll pay.”

Alfie picked up the check, returned with change, and the three at the table finished up their drinks and conversation. As they headed out the door into the afternoon sun, blinking at the brightness after the dim light of the restaurant, Dean couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, hoping to see the blue eyed man one more time before he left. Cas was still nowhere in sight. Dean held back a sigh.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night Dean ordered a pepperoni pizza and ate it in front of the TV while nursing a beer. He tried to ignore the little voice in the back of his head that strived to remind him of just how much more delicious the food had been at Garden of Eatin’. He fought even harder to ignore the guilt he felt when he thought about how Cas would react to the meat and cheese on the pizza.

The next day was Monday, and on his lunch hour Dean found himself driving away from the construction site and toward the hipster part of town where Cas’ restaurant was located. As soon as he caught himself he turned around and headed the other way to drive through Burger King where he got a Double Whopper with cheese and extra bacon, just to spite his stupid heart and the way it would race when he thought of Castiel. 

On Tuesday after work he found himself driving past the restaurant, but he refused to stop.

Wednesday was cold and storming. The construction site was closed due to the weather. Dean finally gave in and headed to the Garden of Eatin’. He justified it by assuring himself it was just because it was perfect chili weather.

The closest parking was a block and a half away, and by the time he stepped inside the door he was drenched. The restaurant was empty again. Cas wandered out from the kitchen at the sound of the bell. He was wearing an ugly oversized brown sweater under a flour covered daisy print apron that was obviously meant for a woman, if the frills at the hem were any indication. 

“Dean! You’re soaked!”

“It’s raining. And the parking in this neighborhood is terrible.”

Cas looked overly concerned, “Still, you could catch cold. let me loan you something dry to wear, please?’ he pleaded.

“You keep extra clothes at your restaurant?”

“ _No_ , I live upstairs. So will you please borrow something?”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Alright, alright, fine. Lead the way.”

Dean followed Cas back into and through the kitchen, cringing as he dripped water all over a surprisingly pristine white floor.

Cas noticed, “Don’t worry so much, it’s just water.”

He led Dean up a narrow set of stairs in the back of the building next to a small room Dean assumed was an office. At the top of the stairs was an old wooden door with the numbers 777 tacked to it. Dean glanced at Cas, “Isn’t this the only apartment?”

Cas laughed, “It’s a bit of a joke, seven has a holy significance in Hebrew theology, and Castiel is a bastardized version of the Hebrew name for the angel Qafsiel.”

Dean looked confused, and Cas shrugged, “I’m agnostic, but I was raised in a very religious household. You grow up like that you learn to either make a joke of it, or you go crazy.”

“So you chose joking over insanity?’

“I never said I was sane.” Cas said with a laugh, “If I was, do you think I would invite strange men I barely know into my home?”

“Touche.” 

“Come on in, I’ll see what I can find to fit you.” Cas ushered Dean inside.

Dean looked around and let out a low whistle, “Damn, Cas. This place is amazing.”

“Isn’t it? When I moved in it looked nothing like this.”

What had obviously once been a normal apartment like you’d find over any old shop, was instead transformed into a wide open loft-like space. The floors were gleaming hardwood, the ceiling vintage copper colored tin tiles. The support beams were encased in square drywall columns and painted bright matte white, a marked contrast to the walls which were a gleaming midnight blue, except for the wall on the street side, which was stripped down to exposed brick. The kitchen was small and open, just a counter separating it from the main room, and Dean could see a small white refrigerator and a matching skinny apartment sized gas oven, nicely complimenting the pale yellow vintage porcelain drainboard sink. 

The main room didn’t have much furniture. There was a large flat screen television mounted on the wall farthest from the door, and a stereo system as well, complete with a turntable, surrounded by metal milk crates full of records that Dean was just itching to flip through. The only other furniture was an absolutely massive platform bed in the middle of the room covered in cushions and pillows and multiple faux fur throws and soft looking blankets.

“Who did the remodel?” Dean asked, ever the construction professional. Cas looked over at him from where he was digging through the hidden drawers under the bed looking for clothes. 

“I did.”

“You?”

“Yes, me. I did construction for awhile in my early twenties. It’s no big deal.” Cas replied with a small self conscious shrug.

“No big deal? This place is incredible!”

“Well, thank you.” Cas walked over to Dean, fabric bundled in his arms, “Here, the bathroom is through the only door.” Cas tossed a thumb gesturing to his left, Dean’s right. 

Dean went in the bathroom, changed, and reemerged in a few minutes barefoot in baggy tan pants made of some itchy fabric and a tight, faded Kucinich ’08 t-shirt. He had his soggy jeans, t-shirt, and overshirt clutched in his arms

“Thanks. Do you have a garbage bag I could put these in?”

“I actually just reuse paper bags from the grocery store, sorry. I do have a dryer in the basement if you were planning to be here for awhile?” Cas asked, hope in his voice.

Dean gave him an easy lopsided smile, “Dude, I haven’t even had any pie yet.”

“I see. Let me just get you something for your feet, and we can head down to the basement, start getting your clothes dry, and then we can get working on this pie issue.”

Cas handed Dean a pair of fuzzy lined brown corduroy slippers.

“ _Really?_ ” Dean couldn’t help but snark.

“Your feet look bigger than mine, those are roomy.” Cas responded with a small leer on his face.

“Uh huh.” Dean replied, grinning.

Cas grinned back, “And comfy.”

“I never say no to comfy.”

“Really?” Cas all but purred, moving closer to Dean.

Dean’s voice dropped, low enough to match Cas’, “ _Oh yeah_.” he responded as he moved closer as well. He could smell Cas’ smell again, marijuana and incense, and this close he could smell his breath, lavender and mint.

Cas leaned in, and Dean’s breath hitched as he dropped the bundle of wet clothes. Cas bypassed Dean’s mouth though, brushing his chapped lips lightly against Dean’s stubbled cheek on his way to give Dean’s ear a playful nip.

Dean groaned and reached out to grasp Cas’ slim hips, to tug him closer and to feel that tight little body up against his, but Cas darted back.

“Pie, Dean. You’re forgetting about pie.”

Dean waged an internal war. Mysterious, sexy, tree-hugging, tofu-eating hippie? Or pie? Sex? Or pie?

By the time he decided, much to his horror, that pie could wait, Cas was no longer in front of him. 

He swung his head around at the sound of the other man clearing his throat in a pointed “Ahem.” Cas was standing at the door with Dean’s clothes in his arms, “You coming?”

Dean tugged on the slippers, which really were very comfortable, and followed Cas back down the stairs, yet again completely baffled by the man in front of him. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When they returned to the restaurant after loading the clothes in the dryer, Dean expected Cas to flip the sign back to ‘Open’ and unlock the door. Instead he turned to Dean and said, “So, pie?”

Dean grinned, “That depends.”

“On what?”

“Do you have any of that six bean chili?”

“I do.”

“In that case, chili first, and pie after.”

Cas signaled for Dean to follow him to the kitchen, “C’mon, you can just eat in here. It’s warmer.”

In the kitchen Cas filled a bowl to the brim with chili, and then turned to Dean, “Daiya?”

“Sure, why the hell not.”

Cas sprinkled what looked like cheddar cheese shreds on the top of the bowl, and handed it to Dean. Then he sliced a fat hunk of sourdough off a loaf sitting on the counter, plated it, and passed it and a spoon to Dean. He pulled himself up to sit on top of the stainless steel prep table, and gestured for Dean to do the same on the counter across from him.

“So, Dean, tell me about yourself.”

Dean paused from blowing on his first spoonful of chili, and glanced at Cas. “What do you want to know?”

Cas beamed a gummy smile, lines fanning out from his eyes, “Everything.”

Dean swallowed, “Well, first, you have to tell me how you get vegan chili to taste so meaty.”

“Tempeh, which is cultured soybeans, and liquid smoke.”

“That’s all?”

Cas exaggeratedly glanced back and forth like he was checking to be sure they were alone, then leaned toward Dean and stage whispered, “Peanut butter.”

“No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way. Just a little bit. It gives it a fatty mouthfeel. But it’s top secret, and if you tell anyone, I’ll have to kill you.”

Dean chuckled, and mimed zipping his lips with the hand not holding the bowl.

Cas sat, swinging his legs like a little kid, “Now that that’s out of the way, back to you telling me everything there is to know about the elusive Dean.”

Dean pursed his lips in thought, “Ok. Well, my last name is Winchester. My middle name is too embarrassing to tell you. Up until a few days ago I thought vegan food was inedible and mostly made of wheat germ and spinach. I’ve got a mom named Mary, and a dad named John, and you already met my little brother Sammy and his wife Jessica. I work as a foreman for Sandover Construction. I’m thirty-three, no kids, never been married. Sometimes if there’s a lull in work I pick up shifts bartending at the Roadhouse, my parent’s old friend Ellen owns the place. I never went to college, barely graduated high school,” Dean fixed a lopsided smirk on his face, “and I'm an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach and frisky women.”

Cas laughed, “Only frisky _women_?”

Dean sat down his now empty bowl on the counter next to him and in a husky murmur replied, “Why don’t you come over here and find out for yourself?”

Much to Dean’s dismay Cas just laughed again, “I might be easy, but I’m not _that_ easy.”

Dean snorted a laugh, “Oh yeah, how easy are you?”

“Like I’d tell, you’d only use it against me.”

“That’s not all I’d like against you.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

Dean beamed, “Yup. So if you won’t tell me how easy you are, how about you tell me something else?”

Cas’ smile took on a guarded quality, “Like what?”

“Everything” Dean echoed.

“My name is Castiel James. I’m thirty-seven years old. I own a vegan restaurant called Garden of Eatin’. I’ve never been married, nor do I have any children. I’m a Leo, I prefer sunrises, I think the beach is alright, and I like friskiness no matter the gender.”

“C’mon, what else? Did you go to college? You have any family nearby?”

Cas slid off the counter, and started walking toward his office.

Dean quickly caught up with him, “Shit! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, just forget it, ok?”

Cas turned and gave him a considering look, “No. I don’t think I will. I like you Dean Embarrassing Middle Name Winchester, so I’m going to tell you.”

“Then why did you walk off?”

“I’m going to tell you, but there’s no way in hell I’m having this conversation sober. I’ve got a couple joints in my desk.”

“You get high at work?”

“I own a vegan restaurant, I think it might actually be in the job description.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Half an hour later Cas was good and high, and though Dean declined to smoke, he felt a bit of a contact buzz too.

They finished laughing at some stupid joke, Cas took a deep breath and the atmosphere in the room suddenly changed.

“You wanted to know about my family?”

Dean gave a nervous nod.

“I assume you’ve heard of Zachariah Adler?”

“Yeah, he’s the dick from that ‘God hates fags’ church, right?”

“The Garrison Baptist Church, yes.”

“Right, what about him?”

“He’s my father.”

Dean coughed on the lavender mint tea Cas had brewed for him. “No!”

Cas nodded, “Yes, and the majority of the rest of the church is made up of my many siblings, and my mother Naomi.”

“But you said your last name is James?”

“James was my middle name. I changed it legally when I was 20.”

“What happened?”

Cas sighed, “It’s a bit of a long story, you have anywhere you need to be soon?”

“Nope. But only if you’re sure you want to talk about it.”

“I don’t, but I want you to know me, so I’m going to tell you anyway. Zachariah and Naomi raised myself and my brothers and sisters in the church. I was out holding protest signs as soon as my little arms were strong enough to carry them. We were home-schooled and allowed very little interaction with the outside world. The highlight of my childhood was the times I was chosen to accompany my mother on trips for groceries.”

Cas paused to light a second joint. 

“So anyway, despite their best efforts, I always just sort of knew it was bullshit. I think my brother Gabriel and sister Anna were a big part of why. Gabe left when I was still very young, and Anna followed a few years after. Instinctively I understood that they were right to run away, and I longed to follow. As puberty approached, and I found my body just as responsive to the thought of boys as it was to the thought of girls, my dissatisfaction and rebelliousness grew bolder. Then when I was 17, my father found out about my attraction to men.”

“Fuck.” Dean breathed, “What happened?”

“This was twenty years ago, the church was still largely a local phenomenon, protesting outside of porn theaters and gay clubs. One evening shortly before my eighteenth birthday I had been dragged to protest the grand opening of a new gay bar in Kansas City. Apparently word had gotten out that we would be there, and the gay community had turned out to counter protest. I was standing there, bored, holding my sign and wishing I could be anywhere else, when I spotted a man looking at me. He was a few years older, handsome and sophisticated looking, wearing a smart suit. He winked at me, and he must have understood that the look on my face in response was interest, not disgust, because he walked away slowly, and kept casting glances back over his shoulder at me, so I would follow. I made an excuse to my family, said I had to go to the bathroom, and I followed him. We ended up in an alley, kissing against the wall. It was my first kiss, and not long after I was on my knees sucking him off. I didn’t notice the camera.”

“Camera?”

“Yes, the man, he said his name was Crowley, though I suspect that was a falsehood, had apparently planned it all. He set out to seduce one of Zachariah Adler’s sons, and had a friend take photos. The photos showed up in our mailbox a few days later, I don’t know if it was an attempt at blackmail, or if he just wanted to shame my father. I never saw him again, so I never got to ask. But, Zachariah flipped out. Said if I stayed in the house one moment longer he would kill me and do God’s work himself. So I took off.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“I highly doubt Christ had anything to do with it.”

“What did you do?”

“I was homeless for awhile. That’s actually how I ended up vegan, Food Not Bombs were giving away free food in the park. I ended up crashing with a few of the guys in what was basically a squat. They were really great though, taught me to cook, what foods were safe to dumpster dive for. But then some shady people started hanging out, these women Ruby and Lilith especially. I ended up getting pretty heavy into drugs, was participating in orgies with strangers, I was basically a mess. The guys actually voted and kicked me out of the squat. Then I was staying at Ruby’s place when someone slipped something in my drink, and I woke up to her brother Lucian trying to rape me. I bailed pretty fast, and started sleeping on the streets again. I was only out there for a couple days when my brother, Gabriel, randomly found me.”

“Cas, man, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok, Gabe took good care of me, helped me get clean. I mean I still smoke pot, but that’s it, none of the hard stuff. I don’t even drink. I stayed with Gabe for a few years, got my GED and went to a vegan culinary school in Austin. When I came back I worked odd jobs, saved up money, and opened this place five years ago. It was rough, but I’m happy with where I am now, and that’s really all that matters.”

Dean was in shock, the man in front of him was so strong, and had been through so much. “This is gonna sound girly as hell, but can I just hug you?”

Cas opened his arms, and Dean squeezed him tight, burying his face in Cas’ shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

Cas pulled back enough to look Dean in the eye, and smiled, eyes still a little hazy from the pot. “Thank you. Now how about you and I grab a few forks, a pie, and head upstairs to watch a movie? I need mindless entertainment and comfort food.”

“Sounds good.” Dean agreed.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When they first got upstairs Cas poured them both tall glasses of icy cold almond milk, then they settled on Cas’ bed with the pie between them. He had put in some French movie about a weird brunette chick with really short bangs. It was subtitled, and Dean missed most of it, between eating over half the pie, and talking with Cas.

They talked about their past relationships, Cas admitting he had never been in anything that lasted long enough to qualify as a relationship, and Dean telling Cas about his year with a woman named Lisa.

“In the end, I think we both tried to stay together for Ben’s sake. I feel like a dick saying it, but in hindsight I’m pretty sure I loved the kid more than I loved her.”

Cas tilted his head from where it was resting on Dean’s shoulder and kissed his jaw. “That doesn’t make you a dick.”

Dean half shrugged so as to not jostle the other man, “Maybe. You know, for awhile after it ended, I used to drive past Ben’s t-ball practice, just to see him. I stopped though, scared the other parents would think I was some kinda sex offender.”

Cas gave a small wry chuckle, but kissed Dean’s neck in apology. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I, but what can you do?”

“Hell if I know, like I said, I’m not exactly an expert at much besides casual sex.”

Dean squeezed Cas’ hand. “Why is that?”

“I never really clicked with anyone before. During my darker days, there was a woman named Meg, but it never went anywhere. The closest I’ve ever come to anything long term is Charlie and Gilda, which hardly counts.”

“Who are Charlie and Gilda?” Dean asked, intrigued. 

“This lesbian couple I’m friends with. They’re trying to have a baby, so once a month when Gilda is ovulating I jerk off into a bowl in their bathroom.”

Dean guffawed, “You’re shitting me!”

“I am not.”

“So you’re gonna be a dad?”

“No, Dean. I’m a donor. Charlie and Gilda are going to be the parents.”

Dean sat up and looked at Cas, dislodging the smaller man from his shoulder in the process, and receiving a disgruntled “oof” in response. 

Cas leaned back resting his weight on his palms and locking his elbows. He quirked an eyebrow at Dean, “ _Yes?_ ” he asked.

“I just, I mean, isn’t that kinda weird?”

“Not any weirder than countless other ways people have babies. Charlie and Gilda are going to make great parents, and it’s not like _I’m_ using my genetic material at the moment.”

“I guess that makes sense. I couldn’t do it though, help make a kid, but then not get to call it mine. Guess I’m just too selfish.”

Cas moved the empty pie tin out from between then, and climbed into Dean’s lap, licking his way into the taller man’s mouth and tasting apples and spice. He pulled back just enough to speak, nose rubbing Dean’s, and whispered, “Maybe I was just waiting for something else to be selfish about.”

Dean groaned and palmed Cas’ ass, tugging him closer so he could grind his growing hardness up against the scorching hot hippie in his lap. Cas responded enthusiastically for a few minutes, but then climbed up and out of Dean’s grasp, putting distance between them while panting, “I think you should know, we aren’t having sex tonight.”

“What?! I mean, why?”

“I like you, a lot. I want to try something different than what I usually do. Though if I’m being honest, it was a lot easier to follow through on that plan before we actually met.”

“Before we...wha..huh?”

“Missouri told me you were coming.”

“Who the hell is Missouri?”

“She’s the psychic down the street.” Cas answered, as though that were a perfectly normal conversation to be having. He sat back down on the bed, but left a good foot of space between he and Dean.

“So you’re telling me a _psychic_ told you we were going to meet?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“What exactly did she say?”

“That a handsome man would be coming into the restaurant soon, and that I would feel drawn to him immediately, as though we had a ‘profound bond’.” Cas explained, even using finger quotes. 

“You actually believe in psychics and shit like that?”

“Not especially, no, but sometimes it’s nice to get told everything you want to hear.”

“I get that. So, she say anything else, besides telling you how handsome I am?” Dean asked with a wry grin. 

“To be honest, I was pretty high. I think there was something about making you purchase some livestock?”

“WHAT?!”

“I don’t know. She said something about buying cows, and getting milk for free. I tried to explain that I don’t serve dairy, so there’s no way I would be giving you milk for free, but she just laughed and shook her head at me.”

Dean cracked up, laughed so long and so hard his cheeks felt tight and his side ached. As he calmed down he managed to gasp out, “Cas, man, promise me something.”

Cas responded, despite his confusion, “What?”

“Don’t ever change.” Dean slung his arm over Cas’ shoulder, pulled him tight to his side, and planted a kiss in messy brown hair.

“Uhhhh, ok?” Cas replied, still lost as to exactly what just transpired.

The movie was long over, and despite devouring so much pie, and the chili earlier, Dean was hungry again, and his stomach gave a loud growl. Cas pulled from Dean’s grasp and asked, “You’re hungry again, already?”

Dean glared at him, “Hey, I’m a growing boy.”

Cas pinched the bit of softness above Dean’s waistband and smirked, “I can see that.”

“Not cool!”

“Sorry.” Cas threw up his hands in a placating gesture. “Want to help me put everything up for the night downstairs, and then I’ll cook you something?”

Dean stole a quick kiss, “Sounds good.”

They managed to get everything put away in good time, and then Cas asked, “What do you feel like?”

“Surprise me.”

Cas crossed his arms and tapped his index finger against his chin, thinking. “French toast?”

“That sounds awesome, though I don’t really believe you can do it without eggs.”

Cas lightly smacked Dean’s shoulder, “I’d think you’d know by now not to doubt my culinary prowess.”

“Maybe. But I might need more convincing. Whip me up some of this magic french toast of yours, and I promise never to doubt you again.”

Cas did, they ate in the kitchen again, and again, it was amazing. Dean was grateful the weird lounge pants Cas loaned him had a drawstring waist, because he was seriously stuffed.

“You win, I’ll never doubt you.” He pulled his phone out of a pants pocket and checked the time, “Shit, it’s late, and I have no idea if there’ll be work tomorrow. I better get home and go to bed.”

Cas walked over and wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, loose since the man had just eaten six fat slices of french toast along with a side of tempeh bacon. “Or you could just spend the night here.”

Dean quirked a brow, “I thought you said we weren’t-”

Cas cut him off, “Not sex, just sleep. It’s late, like you said, and it’s still raining. You have clothes in the dryer you can wear if you have work, please stay?”

Dean kissed Cas on the forehead, and whispered, “Ok. I’ll stay.”

They didn’t have sex that night, though they did sleep together, under a massive blanket pile, holding each other tight despite the trapped heat.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was still raining the next day, and Dean didn’t have work. Cas had to open the restaurant though, so Dean was unceremoniously kicked out at seven in the morning with a quick kiss, and a promise that if he swung by at lunchtime Cas would cook something special just for him.

When Dean got home he found a note from Sam slipped through his mail slot.

_Hey Jerk, I stopped by to see if you wanted to join me for a late dinner after work, but you weren’t home, and I know better than to call your cell after ten at night. Call me when you get a chance_

Dean bristled at Sam’s implication. Sure, he had been a bit of a slut when he was younger, but after Lisa, he had started to change. The final catalyst was watching Sam with Jessica at their wedding. He wanted that for himself. It was such an intense revelation that when one of Jessica’s bridesmaids, a pretty brunette named Ellie, drunkenly propositioned him at the reception, he basically ran away from her. He hadn’t had a random hookup since, over a year previous, and he was irritated that Sam hadn’t noticed he’d changed.

Still, he couldn’t stay mad at his baby brother for long, and after flipping though his mail (bills and junk mail, per usual) he flopped down on his worn plaid couch and pulled out his phone. He called Sam’s office, and waited a few minutes for Sam’s creepy secretary Becky to put him through.

“Sam Winchester.”

“Hey bitch, got your note. Sorry I wasn’t home, I was hanging out with Cas.”

“Cas? Garden of Eatin’ Cas?”

“Yep.”

Sam sounded gleefully suspicious, “And you’re just got my note _now_?” his laughter sounded echoey over the line, “ _So_ is it true what they say, that dudes who eat a lot of fruit taste better?”

“Ewww, Christ, Sammy! First of all, you’re way too curious about gay sex for a supposedly straight guy. Second, it’s not like that. I really like him.”

“I know you like him, hell, I think I knew before you did. But I don’t follow how you liking him means it wasn’t like that?”

“I mean, I stayed the night. But we just slept, I didn’t fuck him, or get fucked by him, or whatever."

“Wow, so you really _do_ like him? **Wow**. Are you guys, like, dating now?”

Dean stopped to roll the idea around in his head, “Yeah, yeah, I think we are.” He couldn’t stop smiling.

“That’s really awesome, Dean. You should invite him for Thanksgiving.”

“I should. I will.”

“Well, I gotta get back to work. Maybe we can get lunch again Sunday?”

“Sounds good, talk to you later.”

“Later.”

Sam hung up, and Dean just sat on the sofa grinning to himself, thinking about Castiel, his boyfriend Castiel. 

He took a shower, called into Sandover about the delay on the project, and then got ready to head back to Garden of Eatin’.

The days, weeks, and eventually months that followed had a similar pattern. Dean found himself spending more and more of his free time at the restaurant, more and more of his nights sleeping in Cas’ amazing bed, wrapped up in his even more amazing arms. On occasion Cas would stay at Dean’s house, but since he refused to own a car for environmental reasons, it almost always made more sense to stay at the apartment.

Cas joined the Winchesters for Thanksgiving. Sam and Jess hosted, and Cas brought the seitan roast and three of his signature apple pies. John and Mary had been apprehensive at the idea of a vegan Thanksgiving, but swiftly changed their opinions when they tasted the food both Cas and Jessica had cooked. Mary adored Cas, and even John, despite the two having no common interests, seemed to warm up to Cas when he found out Cas not only owned his own business, but also the building it was housed in. 

In early December, Dean came down with a fierce upper respiratory infection. Cas insisted Dean stay with him until he recovered completely, and Dean had no urge to refuse. Cas coddled him, fed him, and generally babied him. Dean grumbled, but secretly loved it. It was only when he finally returned home after 9 days at Cas’ apartment that he realized he hadn’t eaten any meat or dairy in over a week.

For Christmas, Dean bought Cas a bee print apron. It was a cute little inside joke, as the only actual fight the couple had had was when Cas tried to explain why he didn’t eat honey.

_”They’re bees, Cas!”_

_”They’re majestic creatures, Dean. They make the honey for themselves, not for us._ ”

_”BUGS.”_

_”If you refuse to respect my beliefs, I’m not having this conversation with you.”_

_Cas turned his back to walk away. Dean threw up his hands in exasperation, “Are you seriously going to get pissed at me over fucking bees?”_

_Cas growled out a warning, “You should leave. Now.”_

_Dean panicked, and quickly turned apologetic, “Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to disrespect you and your beliefs. Please don’t break up with me. I love you, and the bees.”_

_Cas turned back around, his face was a picture of joyous disbelief, “You **love** me?”_

_Dean realized what he had blurted out in his panic, and he waited for a feeling of wrongness that never came, “Yeah, I do, I love you, Castiel.”_

_Cas flung himself into Dean’s arms, his eyes looked wet, “I love you too, Dean.”_

_”So you aren’t breaking up with me?”_

_Cas laughed, a gorgeous happy rolling sound, “I was upset, but I would never break up with you._

_Dean kissed Cas as hard as he could, then whispered, “Never?”_

_”Never.” Cas responded with a kiss._

So bees had become their thing, and Dean liked to get Cas little bee knick-knacks whenever he found them. But the apron wasn’t the only gift. One morning over breakfast Cas had lamented on how his favorite soy yogurt company had run into manufacturing issues, and he was going crazy waiting for them to be back on the shelves. He had looked into commercial yogurt incubators to make his own, but getting one large enough for restaurant use was prohibitively expensive. So Dean had found instructions on the internet, and built him one. 

Cas in turn had given Dean Zeppelin II on vinyl, a first edition copy of On the Road, and a pair of fuzzy corduroy slippers of his own for when he spent the night.

On New Years Eve, Cas drank sparkling apple cider with Jess, who had finally gotten pregnant and was unable to partake in any champagne, he snuck a joint in Sam and Jess’ garage, and at three in the morning he carried a drunken Dean to the Impala, drove them home, then carried Dean up the stairs to his apartment, where he laid him down on the bed gently, and undressed him to his boxers. Then Cas took a moment to just look at him.

They still hadn’t had sex. They had come close, rutting and grinding, and they had seen each other in their underwear many times, as they both preferred to sleep like that. At first it was because Cas was afraid, scared if he slept with Dean it would end. Then when Dean told him he loved him, Cas was afraid for different reasons, of the intimacy and trust, and all the feelings that had never been present in his sex life before. 

Dean had been so patient. At the beginning, Cas would tell him he could still sleep with other people, but Dean refused. Now, as a new year began, Cas realized it was time, he was ready. Unfortunately, his boyfriend was passed out drunk. Cas tucked them both in, nuzzled up to Dean’s chest, and fell asleep with a soft smile on his face.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean woke up to sunlight reflecting off fresh snow and beaming blindingly into Cas’ uncovered windows. Brown hair was tickling his chin, and the other man was a heavy though welcome weight, sprawled on his chest, one leg tucked between Dean’s thighs. He was far less hungover than he expected, though it wasn’t much of a surprise, since he’d been eating so much healthier he had been feeling better in general.

He felt Cas’ morning wood pressing hot and hard against his leg, and he tried to shuffle away, as he found himself with less and less willpower around his boyfriend as time passed. The shuffling seemed to rouse Cas, who blinked one blue eye open and peered up at him.

“You’re awake.” He stated in a rough grumble.

“Mmhmm.” Dean agreed, and Cas could feel the vibrations of Dean’s voice through the man’s chest.

“Hungover?”

“A little. Not bad.”

“Do we have any plans today?”

“No, why?”

“Because I think we should have sex.”

Dean sat up with a jolt, and Cas fell down onto the bed with a grunt.

“Sorry, babe. Now was I hearing things, or did you say you want to have sex?”

“I’ve _wanted_ to have sex with you since I first saw you, I think we _should_ finally have sex today.”

“Really?” Dean asked, giddy as a kid on Christmas, “Ok, let me just go brush my teeth, and do you have lube and condoms, or should I go buy some?” Dean was already rushing toward the bathroom.

“Dean, wait!”

Dean walked back into the main room, trying to hide his frustration, “You’ve changed your mind. Shit. Was it me? I was too eager, wasn’t I?”

“Stop. I didn’t change my mind. I just, I’ve been reading.”

“Ooooookay?”

“Have you heard of tantric sex?”

“I think so? Sting and his wife are into it, right?”

“I have no idea what sort of sexual practices Sting and his wife are into.”

“Right, well, go on.”

“Let me make some breakfast, I can explain while we eat.”

A half hour later found them sitting at their usual places in the kitchen of the restaurant that Cas had closed for the holiday. As Dean shoveled biscuits and peppered white bean gravy into his mouth like he had been starving for years, Cas explained.

“The purpose of tantric sex is to connect on a deeper emotional level with your partner, while also delaying orgasm in order to heighten pleasure.”

Dean spoke around a mouthful of food, “That sounds awesome so far.”

“We start by meditating next to each other in the nude. Foreplay begins spontaneously, and leads to sex. Eye contact is maintained throughout, and we try to avoid any talking. Release is delayed as long as possible. A tantric sex session can last for hours.”

“Hours?”

Cas leered, “Hours.”

Dean inhaled the rest of his food, and said, “Let’s go.”

Cas laughed, melodic like his bamboo wind chimes.

Upstairs, they stripped each other’s pajamas off, and then squeezed together into Cas’ small shower stall. They washed each other, shampooed each others hair. Kisses were pressed to wet flesh at random. After, they took turns towel drying each other while stealing kisses that were still spiced from the peppered gravy. 

In the bedroom Cas dug a bottle of lube from one of the drawers under the bed, then still kneeling turned to Dean, “So, I um, I got tested. When I started trying to help Charlie and Gilda. Just to be sure. I’m clean, if you are...” he trailed off.

Dean understood what he was asking, “Yeah, yes, I’m clean.”

“So would you want to do this without a, you know, condom?”

Dean snatched Cas’ free hand and pulled him up onto the bed, “More than anything.” he replied with a kiss. They cleared all the blankets and extra pillows off the bed, and lay down next to each other, holding hands and nervously staring at the ceiling. Cas was still clutching the bottle of lube.

“Ok, so we just need to relax, and it’ll just, happen.” Cas set the bottle of lube on the floor next to the bed.

Dean took a deep breath “Ok.”

He tried to relax. It was hard, because his brain couldn’t stop running on an excited loop of _I’m gonna have sex with Cas, I’m gonna have sex with Cas_ on and on. Eventually though, Dean managed to sync his breathing up with his boyfriend’s, and he relaxed. His eyes drifted shut, and he felt the body heat radiating from the man next to him. Then, he felt a tongue flick his nipple.

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas breathed out on the hardening nub, “eye contact.”

Dean looked down at Cas and met his eyes. Cas maintained eye contact as he flattened his tongue and slid it across Dean’s nipple. Dean had to fight to keep his eyes from rolling back, and he already felt himself rising to full hardness. 

Cas moved across Dean’s chest to the other nipple, and Dean reached a hand down to stroke the side of Cas’ face. Cas smiled at Dean with his eyes, and laved Dean’s chest with his tongue again. Cas moved down Dean’s torso kissing, licking, and nipping lightly. Dean squeezed Cas’ biceps, and groaned in disappointment as Cas bypassed his groin entirely to kiss his way down Dean’s right leg. Blue stared into green as Cas sucked a mark at Dean’s ankle, and Dean watched in awe as Cas kissed the bottom of his foot, then sucked and licked at each of his toes. Cas switched to the other foot, and repeated his ministrations, then worked his way up Dean’s left leg, this time marking the inside of Dean’s thigh. 

When Cas started kissing and tonguing at Dean’s balls, the green eyed man had to prop himself up to maintain eye contact. Then Cas swirled his tongue around the head of Dean’s cock, and Dean fell back down to the bed, arms too shaky and weak to support his weight. Cas winked at him, then dipped his head down, taking Dean into his throat so that his soft pink lips were all the way at Dean’s base. Dean gasped out a moan, and it took everything for him to not close his eyes. Cas pulled off and worked his way back up Dean’s abdomen to his chest, then kissed him , licking his way into Dean’s mouth.

Dean couldn’t hold back a small laugh at kissing with their eyes open, and he felt Cas’ smile against his lips. Then Dean rolled them over so he was on top of the smaller man. 

He followed a similar path down Castiel’s body, placing kisses to each of his ribs, stopping at the belly ring with the yin-yang charm dangling from it, in order to give it a light tug with his teeth. Cas let out a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a moan, and Dean dipped his tongue into Cas’ belly button. He sucked marks into both sharp hipbones, then soothed the marks with his tongue. He worked his way down Cas’ left leg first, nipping at the softer flesh of Cas' thigh. He experimentally licked and sucked Cas’ toes like Cas had done with him, and was rewarded by the loudest moan yet. He pressed a light kiss to the bump of bone on the outside of Cas’ ankle, then worked his way up Cas’ right leg. When he reached Cas’ groin he pressed kisses first up Cas’ length, then back down. He used his hand to stroke Cas, tugging the foreskin up and down over the head as he suckled at Cas’ balls. Then he used his hands to spread Cas’ thighs wider, and licked a stripe over his entrance. Cas whined low in his throat, and propped himself up the best he could to maintain eye contact.

Dean licked and licked, getting Cas wet and pliant, then dipped the point of his tongue inside. He worked it in deeper, and then gently scraped his teeth over Cas’ rim. Cas reached out blindly and fumbled for the bottle of lube, then passed it down to Dean with a shaking hand. Dean kissed the pink pucker, and leaned back, resting his chin on the knee of Cas’ sprawled open leg, and poured lube all over the fingers of his right hand, thick fluid dripping on the sheets below, He gently whirled his pointer finger around and around Cas hole, then dipped just the tip inside. The heat was incredible, and he had to fight himself to maintain the slow pace. He slid his finger back out, then worked it back in just a little deeper. After a long while he started to add a second finger, and when he started scissoring them he barely brushed against Cas’ prostate. At the wild look in those stormy blue eyes Dean felt heat rush to his stomach, coiling. He eased his fingers back out to toy at the rim and stretched his body up to kiss his boyfriend. As they kissed, eyes wide open, Dean started to work a third finger inside. 

Dean scissored and swirled his fingers, gliding them in and out until Cas was writhing, panting, and begging with blown eyes so wild he looked delirious. As he worked Cas open he pressed wet kisses to Cas’ chiseled chin, and butterfly pecks to the tip of his nose which caused him to let out ridiculous peals of giggling laughter. Then Cas was sitting up and pushing Dean up with him. Dean’s fingers slipped free and Cas keened.

Cas took the lube, poured a generous amount on his palm, and reached down to stroke Dean and slick him up, while simultaneously sucking Dean’s bottom lip into his mouth and biting down just hard enough to make Dean’s entire nervous system give a jolt. Then he pushed Dean down onto his back, and straddled his bowed thighs. He slowly smoothed his hands down Dean’s torso, lightly scratching at Dean’s nipples with blunt fingernails, and caressing the indents of Dean’s abs with the pads of his fingers. He reached back between his own legs and jerked Dean’s cock with three squeezing tugs, then lined Dean up with his hole and slowly, slowly slid down until Dean was seated all the way inside, the tendons of Cas’ thighs straining against Dean’s hips. 

Dean couldn’t help but close his eyes, and Cas leaned down to place feather light kisses on Dean’s eyelids, then whispered, “Look at me.”

As Dean opened his eyes and peered into blue, Cas rose up and sank back down. Dean’s hands flew from his sides to clasp at Cas’ hips, as Cas rose up again just as slow.

Dean could feel every inch of searing hot tightness pressing down on him, and he gasped again and again as Cas rode him.

Cas would speed up, bouncing on Dean’s cock, back arching but maintaining eye contact, but everytime he felt Dean’s grasp on his hips grow tighter he would slow back down, settling into Dean’s lap in a slow, rolling grind until Dean calmed back down.

It went on like that for so long Dean lost any concept of time, any sense of place, any thought of sensation that wasn’t the heat of Cas pressed against him, the feeling that Cas was staring straight into his soul and could see every part of him, and loved them all, even the dark fucked up parts that Dean tried so hard to hide. As Cas sped up again Dean thrust up to meet him, and unable to hold back any longer begged, “Please.” in a voice that cracked with desperation and need. 

He reached for Cas’ leaking shaft, but Cas caught his hand and held it instead.

“Please.” Dean begged again.

Cas leaned forward and kissed him, whispered, “Shhhh.” and shook his head, and slowed back down to the rolling grind.

Dean felt Cas shiver, and watched in awe as Cas stilled completely, staving off an orgasm despite being untouched.

Then after a few minutes of breathless kissing Cas slowly resumed rolling, and grinding. Then a slick slide up and down, bouncing and bouncing and riding Dean straight into the mattress. Dean’s throat was so dry he couldn’t even moan anymore, the only sound harsh dry inhales and exhales from both men and the rhythmic thud of flesh on flesh.

Dean begged with his eyes, wide and pleading, and Cas sped up as he nodded. Dean grabbed Cas’ hips to still him and started thrusting up in earnest as Cas made shallow like “uh uh uh” noises that came out sounded near sobbing. 

Dean planted the soles of his feet on the bed and thrust up one final time, so hard and deep he lifted Cas right up off his knees, and shot inside Cas, going off like a pistol, entire body thrumming and vibrating with pleasure. Watching Dean come, eyes like fireworks, and feeling the heat filling him up inside, Cas followed almost immediately, shooting streams of hot wet whiteness all over Dean’s chest and neck. The look on Cas’ face as he came, eyes wild, skin flushed, biting his lip and arching his neck forever seared into Dean’s mind.

Cas collapsed on Dean’s chest, and pressed frantic kisses to his chin, lips, and cheek bones. They lay in bed holding each other as Dean went soft inside, and stay that way until the sheen of sweat had dried on their skin, and the stickiness between their chests grew too uncomfortable to ignore. Cas rose up off of Dean and gave a small sigh of discontent at the emptiness, then he moved over just enough to lay in the crook of Dean’s arm, knee bent over Dean’s thigh.

Dean spoke first, “That was amazing.” and his voice cracked a small bit from disuse.

“You’re amazing.” Cas replied.

Dean pressed a kiss to Cas lips, “I love you.”

Cas replied, “Move in with me.”

And Dean knew that three months give or take wasn’t very long, but he replied “Yes.” anyway.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day Dean listed his house with a realtor. That weekend he and Cas rented a truck and donated the majority of Dean’s furniture to Goodwill, though Dean insisted he keep his dresser, and Cas agreed so long as they painted it a glossy white.

Three weeks after Dean moved in he ate meat and dairy the last time, going out for burgers at lunch with a few of the guys from work, only to discover Cas refused to kiss him when he got home.

Two weeks after that, he realized he didn’t miss it at all.

A month and a half into her pregnancy, Jessica got a craving for Chicago style hot dogs at three in the morning, and sent a grumpy, exhausted Sam to the grocery store, at which point the experiment with veganism in the Moore-Winchester household officially came to an end.

Baby Eliza was born right on time, healthy and happy, despite the fact that her mother averaged a bag of Cheetos and a package of Oreos a day the entire last trimester.

Charlie and Gilda’s baby Leia was born a month later. She mostly looked like Gilda, but she had Cas' eyes. Charlie and Gilda asked Dean and Cas to be her godparents.

At Eliza’s first birthday party Dean pulled Cas aside and proposed. 

“So I was thinking, “ Dean began, ever the romantic, “you and I should get married. Maybe have a kid of our own, you know, adopt or find a surrogate.”

Cas kissed him, “I love you, and I’d love to marry you. But hon, Kansas doesn’t allow same-sex marriage.”

Dean shrugged, “Then a commitment ceremony. I just want to tell you just how much you mean to me in front of everyone we know.”

Six months later Garden of Eatin’ was closed on a Saturday night. The tables were moved out of the way, and a chuppah was at the back of the room, gauzy white fabric and sprigs of lavender. Dean wore a traditional black tuxedo, and Cas wore a loose cream linen suit. All of their family and friends were there, Sam, Jessica, and baby Eliza. John and Mary. Alfie. Ellen, Jo, and Ellen’s husband Bobby. Charlie, Gilda, and baby Leia. Gabriel was there, and he had tracked down Cas’ sister Anna who was there as well.

Missouri performed the ceremony. After she joked to Dean, “You bought the cow.”

Dean laughed, and nodded, “I sure did.” He watched Cas, across the room, dancing with baby Eliza as he and Mary sang along to the Beatles playing on the stereo Dean had drug down from upstairs.

Instead of wedding cake, Cas baked a blend of four organic heirloom apples, lightly sweetened with raw muscovado sugar, baked in a stone milled whole wheat crust lightly spiced with fresh ground ginger and cinnamon. Dean mashed it in his face all the same, but then kissed away every last crumb.

**Author's Note:**

> So I know I was supposed to be working on Heavenly Hunks. And I sat down the other day fully intending to write the next chapter. Only my brain decided this needed to happen instead.
> 
> I'm so fucking in love with this fic, and I hope you are too.
> 
> Vegan food is awesome.


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